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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626808">Yet Can a Vulcan Truly Love?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsaremadeofthis/pseuds/dreamsaremadeofthis'>dreamsaremadeofthis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amok Time, Captain Kirk Presumed Dead, Friends to Lovers, Implied Violence, James Kirk becomes captain of the Enterprise, Kolinahr (Star Trek), M/M, Pon Farr, Reminiscent Sleepless in Seattle, Valentine's Day, spirk, spock's pov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:47:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsaremadeofthis/pseuds/dreamsaremadeofthis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>My Spirk Valentine offering for 2020</strong>
</p><p>What was REALLY going through Spock's mind as he believed he'd just killed his Captain in the episode <i>Amok Time</i> - and why.</p><p><b>Having vs wanting.</b>  <i>A mere conjecture on my part, spawned deep within my psyche’s urge to demean T’Pring's and Stonn’s relationship after their lethal disregard of my urgent biological need. I now burned with a more Human purpose—to negate any xenophobic satisfaction the couple ever derived, even as childhood classmates, not only at my expense but now at that of my Human captain...the innocent victim of his blind trust in me.</i></p><p>Those who have watched <i>Star Trek: Enterprise,</i> season 1, are familiar with their account of early Vulcan-Earth relations; how for years after first contact, most high-ranking Vulcan officials considered the Humans not only inferior but repugnantly smelly. </p><p>Based on Spock being bullied as a child by his full-blood Vulcan classmates and then ignored by his own father for 18 years, this is how I've always believed a young Spock's self-worth would have been shaped and damaged...<em><strong>Until he met a young Captain James T. Kirk.</strong></em><br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yet Can a Vulcan Truly Love?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borealisblue/gifts">Borealisblue</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>                                                                                           </p>
</div><p>
  <em>       <strong>  “Logical. Flawlessly logical. Stonn, she is yours. After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting.”<br/>
</strong><br/>
</em>
</p><p>     A mere conjecture on my part of course, spawned deep within my psyche’s urge to demean T’Pring's and Stonn’s relationship after their lethal disregard of my urgent biological need. I now burned with a more Human purpose—to negate any xenophobic satisfaction the couple ever derived, even as childhood classmates, at not only my expense but now at that of my Human captain, who had just lain dead in the sand nearby, extinguished mindlessly and violently by my own hand. The innocent victim of his blind trust in me, his first officer and friend.</p><p><strong>After all, T’Pring’s declaration of Kal-if-fee, “The Challenge,” </strong><em><strong>demands</strong></em><strong> a death. As one of the most obsolete and barbaric of antiquated Vulcan bonding rituals, it is seldom invoked in modern times for that very reason: someone </strong><em><strong>must </strong></em><strong>die, either the challenger’s pre-bondmate or their champion of choice; either one's death satisfies the savage ritual’s bloodlust.</strong><br/>
<br/>
     In that moment, only the almost paralyzing grief and shame, and perhaps some small remaining false dignity, allowed me to mimic my usual calm stoicism. But beneath that façade, an intense battle raged against my ancient Vulcan desire to avenge my captain’s death by ripping out their skulls with my bare hands and delivering cold retribution to their convulsing bodies.</p><p>     Residual primal instinct from plak-tow? Possibly. But my own blood cried out after T'Pring's premeditated plot to cruelly and sadistically not just break our bond but destroy both my life and that of Captain Kirk, who had not been informed ahead of time our ritual battle <em>must</em> be to the death.</p><p>     T’Pring’s own explanation regarding her choice of Kirk as champion would forever <em>specify</em> her in my eyes as an accessory to murder; listening to her boastfully lay out the details of the couple's conspiracy, as Stonn stood by looking stunned at her spurning betrayal in not naming him as her champion as they'd planned, which he revealed in his protest to T'Pau.</p><p>     Instead, she used me—turning me into her private assassin, then used my captain, a complete stranger to her; thus destroying two beings of unworthy Human blood, ensuring her superior pure-blood Vulcan lover remained unscathed.</p><p>     If T'Pring's only desire had been the severing of our childhood betrothal, all she ever needed do was message me her request. I would have immediately enlisted the aid of a Vulcan Elder/Healer to dissolve our preliminary bond at any time during my adulthood. And my own death from unquenched plak-tow would have been small price to pay for preventing the destruction of Captain Kirk’s life and career.</p><p>     Though her words cloaked the truth, I easily surmised that her true goal had been to destroy me and what she referred to as my “legend”; the inferior, flawed half-Vulcan who nonetheless had thrived in Starfleet in spite of, and perhaps because of, my mixed heritage. T’Pring had intended to use my notoriety against me, as a warning to any future Vulcan who would dare contemplate polluting their bloodline with that of out-worlders, as my father had by marrying the Human Amanda and choosing to engineer and bear a hybrid son.<br/>
<br/>
     Turning my back derisively on the couple after Dr. McCoy transported back to the Enterprise hugging the limp, lifeless body of James Kirk protectively within his arms, the bitter irony of my inexperience with the concept of <em>having</em> versus <em>wanting</em> irked me. After all, I’d never <em>had</em> T'Pring, nor had I ever <em>wanted</em> her.<br/>
<br/>
     I had only required her, as is the necessity of every Vulcan adult for their childhood pre-bonded mate in order to fulfill the relentless hunger of blood fever, as it vexes our species approximately every seven years. Vulcan biology demands the cyclical mating, which left unsated, results in our death within mere days.</p><p>     This, our all-consuming evolutionary drive to maintain populace.</p><p>     Being not of pure Vulcan blood but rather manufactured from both Human and Vulcan genetics, I had believed I might be spared the madness of Pon Farr. Thus, even though my ambassador father, Sarek, had required me to join with T’Pring in the ritual touching of minds at age seven, the onset of my first Pon Farr cycle had come upon me unexpected and unwelcome. I was unprepared for the toxic onslaught of reproductive hormones.</p><p>     Though my parents had initially agreed that any children born of their marriage would be reared in the Vulcan tradition, I had proven to be…a challenge for my father. As the only surviving Vulcan mixed breed in the known universe,<strong>**</strong> I had been repeatedly tormented and mocked as inferior by my classmates. I often sought solitude in the mountains near Shi’Kahr, the city of my birth, for meditation and immersion in the study of Surak’s tenets, possessed by a clawing need to transform my condemned Humanity into an accomplished, model Vulcan, worthy of my father’s acceptance and respect...or at least close enough to end his haranguing disappointments.</p><p>     I was, however, entirely unsuccessful, as Sarek’s lack of acknowledgement and subsequent refusal to communicate with me for eighteen years indicated.<br/>
<br/>
     Perhaps, though, earning my father’s approval was never even a possibility.</p><p>     I’d watched as my half-brother, Sybok, a full blood Vulcan born from my father’s first marriage, was evicted from our home and eventually from our home planet, branded a subversive revolutionary—a dangerous embarrassment to the ambassador and to all of Vulcan—for brazenly rejecting Surak’s teachings.</p><p>     Sybok, who had not yet been convinced by Vulcan fists as I had been in my youth that Vulcan IDIC philosophy actually served as little more than lip service, embraced the condemned philosophy of <em>V'tosh ka'tur</em>, or “Vulcans without logic,” who not only espoused emotions as the very key to self-knowledge but actively recruited others to join in their revolt. </p><p>     I finally concluded that if the actions of a full blood son provoked Sarek’s banishment, then I, as half blood, could expect only worse, forever condemned by my father as<em> not Vulcan enough</em>.</p><p>     Abandoning my youthful quests, I determined to leave my family and the planet of my failure far behind. I discarded my lifelong plan to attend the highly selective Vulcan Science Academy, choosing instead to relocate to Earth, applying to the Federation’s Starfleet Academy, my new goal to become a science officer.</p><p>     Upon graduation, I was assigned to the Federation's flagship, the <em>USS Enterprise</em>, under the command of Captain Christopher Pike, where I served for eleven years, four months, and five days, advancing through the ranks to my present position of Commander by the time Captain Pike was reassigned, replaced by Captain James T. Kirk.</p><p>     I held great admiration and respect for Captain Pike, whose command style was consistently measured but greatly courageous, often in the face of grave danger.</p><p>     As a young crewmember, I endeavored to maintain Vulcan logic and decorum in my interactions with my peers, with my superior officers, and with new life and new civilizations. However, I allowed myself to more openly and freely appreciate the wonders of a universe filled with delightful discoveries unknown on Vulcan, from the blue singing plants of Talos IV to the Tacadus sunset with its multiple moons.</p><p>     Maturing over my years of service, I observed enough death and destruction to more fully recognize the validity of Surakian values applied more stringently to my life. My routine altered to include even more daily meditation to order my mind and strengthen my mental and emotional stability.</p><p>     But when this new captain beamed aboard, it was as though the untamed energy of a hurricane whisked throughout the ship, its gusts and torrents blasting past every bulkhead.</p><p>     This captain was the youngest in Starfleet history, and his impassioned vitality immediately changed the tenor of the entire ship. He quickly learned about every officer and crewmember and exhibited genuine interest in each. He had obviously extensively prepared, demonstrating considerable knowledge of each department. Captain Kirk had familiarized himself with every rivet, every weld, every curve of the Enterprise, and most were convinced he could take her apart and put her back together all by himself.</p><p>     The man captivated me from the moment I met him, but not by my conscious choice. A dynamic force of nature as irresistible as gravity yet kind and what Humans called "personable," I soon found myself being drawn into his orbit.</p><p>     Within days, I became aware he threatened to topple my carefully constructed Vulcan discipline when around him. I found comfort in his approval, his attention to my work, his unbridled respect for me as adviser, even curiously proclaiming it brought him emotional security.</p><p>     So in this Human, I found the basics I had missed from my family and fellow Vulcans: acceptance, honor, dignity...and friendship, the development of which brought me shame—yet I continued to bask in it.</p><p>     Unfortunately, I also discovered something else I had not experienced before. A pressing emotion that sometimes brought an almost physical pain to my side, where my heart pounded rapidly at the most inopportune times, all directly related to my proximity to James Kirk. </p><p>     My body had never responded in any way like this to thoughts of T’Pring or, indeed, anyone else. This feeling (yes, I required myself to call it by name) was illogical, and though fascinating, nonetheless inappropriate and an inefficient waste of time and attention. I determined never to yield my controls to this violation of my conscious will.</p><p>     But then, as Pon Farr ravaged me during the second year of our five-year mission under Captain Kirk’s command, enabling Dr. McCoy to discover the truth of my malady, I finally shared with James Kirk the secret nature and demands of Vulcan biology. In the face of court martial and loss of his career, the Captain insisted on disobeying our present orders, instead rerouting the Enterprise to Vulcan for my final bonding ceremony, thus saving me from certain death. He and Dr. McCoy readily accepted my request to stand with me in the ceremony as allowed by Vulcan custom and tradition.</p><p>     When T’Pring abruptly halted our joining ceremony with her declaration of Kal-if-fee, I felt the convergence of a lifetime of indignities and ridicule, added to the onset of deep plak-tow, the blood fever. Yet, when T’Pring named Captain Kirk as her champion, he readily accepted the challenge, rather than refusing with disgust at my utter rejection, as I would have expected. I could only believe he did so in attempt to uphold my honor and end my suffering.</p><p>     Instead, his acceptance left both our lives ruined.</p><p>     Or so I believed, as Dr. McCoy returned Jim’s remains to his beloved ship.</p><p>     This was infinitely worse than any court martial and dishonorable discharge Starfleet could have imposed. The foggy, biologically driven death I'd meted out to the captain was absolute, in the face of his sacrificial friendship.</p><p>     All that was left for me now was to transport back to the Enterprise and surrender myself to authorities, charged with murder and facing imprisonment for the remainder of my life, which would mercifully be cut short, as my next seven-year mating cycle would overtake me as lethally unbonded.</p><p>     Upon arriving in the Enterprise sickbay with my final orders for Dr. McCoy, an unimaginable, overwhelming joy and relief erupted from my very core as Captain Kirk…as <em>Jim</em> revealed himself, miraculously alive and well, due to Dr. McCoy’s medical trickery. Nothing could have restrained my explosive smile and embrace as Jim stood before me, grinning mischievously.</p><p>     In retrospect, I have never been able to determine the science behind the unprecedented termination of my plak-tow at the very moment I believed I’d killed my captain.</p><p>     T’Pring and Stonn were left with each other. <em>Kaiidth.</em> But the Enterprise left them both behind knowing they'd never had us. Much to T’Pring’s disappointment, both the captain and I had survived her vindictive scheme.</p><p>     And now, finding myself free of impending imprisonment and the anguish of murdering the man I so highly esteemed, I could finally embrace an acceptable future in the service of Starfleet and Captain Kirk, who had been cleared of all charges at T'Pau's influential behest.</p><p>     The remainder of our five-year mission held its share of challenges, time and space passing with the discovery of new peoples, the mapping of uncharted star systems, interplanetary contract negotiations, and encounters with unexpected danger.</p><p>     ...And my futile struggle against an ever growing regard for James Kirk.</p><p>     Increased time spent in meditation no longer benefited me with further resistance or respite. By the conclusion of our five years, my mental and emotional controls were so compromised around Jim that I no longer functioned adequately in my duty stations.</p><p>     I saw no choice but to travel to Gol and undergo the ritual of Kolinahr, the only technique known to purge all emotion, enabling my species to maintain a stable mind. I believed that only by attaining a state of Kolinahr could I finally be liberated from my Human frailties and perhaps more importantly, freed from the pain of my personal disgrace, especially in light of my feelings for the newly promoted Admiral Kirk.</p><p>     But even after almost three Earth years of extensive training to master Kolinahr, I still found myself haunted by this extreme decision; yet I could find no alternative. Finally, my mind declared its goodbye across space to James Kirk, resolved to never again think of him nor speak his name.</p><p>     And then, just as the moment of completion arrived, Jim’s brilliant, powerful mind called out to me across the lightyears separating us, entreating me to return. With billions of lives on Earth and beyond hanging on his next decisions, James Kirk sought out my help. He needed that emotional security now more than ever.</p><p>     I was unsure which astonished me more: that James Kirk, with almost three years and millions of kilometers between us, still believed I would somehow perceive this new eminent danger and hear his mind's pleas that I return; or how vastly I had underestimated the power James Kirk held over me.</p><p>     I finally faced the truth: I could neither give him up nor deny him when he needed me. Perhaps Edith Keeler’s insight that I belonged at Jim’s side always had proven accurate after all.</p><p>     I had also greatly underestimated the depth of my feelings for this man.</p><p>     My lack of experience with the more complex emotions, combined with my strictest observance of Surak’s precepts, had blinded me to the truth: I was profoundly in love with James Kirk. </p><p>     How had I been so blinded to not realize my love for Jim made him as much a part of me as my pointed ears and green blood, nullifying any possibility of Kolinahr?</p><p>     A significantly different transformation from the one I’d sought at Gol Monastery was now established. There was no turning back.</p><p>     I booked passage on the first shuttle that would take me to Jim's location on the redesigned and updated Enterprise. Though I did not register my imminent return with Starfleet Command, I was nonetheless granted permission to board and find Jim on the bridge.</p><p>     As the bridge entrance slid open and the crew's sudden gasps and exclamations announced my presence, Jim stood and spun around, his beautiful face radiating astonishment and…what I could only interpret as reverence.  The intensity with which Jim whispered my name caused me to shudder as it broadcast his relief that I’d returned to him, further confirming I had finally acted wisely.</p><p>     Now reassigned as acting captain of the Enterprise, the admiral ordered my immediate return to active Starfleet status as Science Officer, and I took my place at my station, where I could be the most useful.</p><p>     At the successful conclusion of the crisis with V’Ger, James Kirk was given permanent command of the Enterprise and I was reinstalled as First Officer in addition to Science Officer, the positions I preferred to fill.</p><p>     One late evening soon after the Enterprise received new orders and a new destination out in the black, I sought respite within the solitude of the new observation deck, hypnotically watching celestial bodies streak by. As I meditated on events from the past eight years, the many successes and failures, both of missions and those pertaining only to myself, my reverie was interrupted by the entrance of a man I again immediately perceived to be James Kirk, though mere meters separated us this time.</p><p>     “Captain.” I turned to greet the silhouette moving toward me.</p><p>     “Commander.” Jim’s relaxed voice, warm and comfortable, replied. “The computer informed me I’d find you here.”</p><p>     “Did you need me, Admiral?”</p><p>     “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”</p><p>     The gentle passion in the captain's voice betrayed all his heart had somehow kept hidden before. James Kirk quietly and gently approached, this time capturing me eternally in his orbit.</p><p>     "We should go," Jim whispered, pressing my hand in his. "Shall we?"</p><p>     And inviting me to explore a strange, new private world of our own with him, my T’hy’la and I did, indeed, live happily ever after.<br/>
<br/>
                                 </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <strong>REFERENCED:</strong>
</p><p> <strong>ST:TOS Episodes:</strong><br/><i>  Amok Time, Journey to Babel</i></p><p><strong>ST:TNG Episodes</strong>:<br/><i>  Unification, Part 1</i></p><p><strong>ST: ENT Episodes:</strong><br/> <i>The Andorian Incident, Fusion, Demons</i><br/><strong>AN:</strong> The idea that Vulcans believed humans are smelly comes from the episode, <i>The Andorian Incident</i>:</p><p>     T'POL: "P'Jem is a place of quiet contemplation, Captain. I'm not certain we'd be welcome."<br/>TUCKER: "It's because <strong>Vulcans think we smell bad, isn't it?"</strong></p><p>     ELDER: "How long have you lived on the Earth ship?"<br/>T'POL: "Nine weeks and four days."<br/>ELDER: <strong>"The smell must be intolerable."</strong><br/>T'POL: "You get used to it, and <strong>I was given a nasal numbing agent."</strong></p><p>     T'POL: "It's been twenty four hours since I took my nasal numbing agent. <strong>The cold is preferable to the odor."</strong></p><p><strong>ST: DIS Episode:</strong><br/> <i>Lethe</i><br/><strong>AN:</strong>The VSA council requires Sarek to choose between Michael and Spock, both referred to as "Sarek's experiments," to attend the VSA, as a human has never been accepted (also proclaimed to AOS Spock in ST:2009, referencing Spock's "disadvantage" of having a human mother). The elitist, condescending council expresses they certainly have no intention of allowing attendance by two such non-pure blood Vulcans, again underscoring Vulcan's attitude toward humans for at least a century after first contact with Earth.</p><p> <strong>ST: The Motion Picture</strong><br/><strong>ST: The Novelization of The Motion Picture</strong><br/><strong>ST V: The Final Frontier</strong></p><p>  <i><strong>** </strong>In the ENT episode, <i>Terra Prime</i>, Trip and T'Pol discovered they had parented a cloned half Human/half Vulcan baby girl, whom T'Pol named Elizabeth after Trip's murdered sister. Elizabeth was genetically crafted from DNA stolen by terrorists and as it turned out, the technique used to combine the genetic material was flawed and the baby did not survive, a cause of much heartache and grief to her parents, even though they had been with her a very short time. At first, Dr. Phlox believed that this proved Humans and Vulcans were too genetically incompatible to reproduce. However, after further research, Phlox attempted to console the parents by informing them he discovered there was no medical reason why Humans and Vulcan DNA couldn't combine; that if a Vulcan and a Human ever decided to have a child, "it'd probably be okay." Spock is the only surviving proof that Dr. Phlox was correct in his deduction.</i></p></blockquote></div></div>
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